Recurring Like the Ocean Waves
by cherrychopstix
Summary: Having both dreamt of reconciliation for too long, Hawke and Fenris at last decide to mend the remnants of a night that is still too vivid in their minds. When a man popular with the people for his witty humor, good character and Archdemon-slaying record takes a fancy to Hawke in his royal visit to Kirkwall, Fenris begins questioning his self-worth. -New summary.
1. Reconcilation

Been toying with this idea for a while in which Alistair would outdo everything Fenris did to court Hawke... And then this happened. We'll see where this goes :)

I plan for this story to be kept short. I already have another couple out -_- Why do I do this to myself? Well, I hope you enjoy this. This chapter is just kind of setting everything up, nothing too exciting.

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Two green orbs shone as a ray of light entered the room through a highly placed window. Fenris had awoken. His memory drifted to what had occurred a few hours prior, a myriad of emotions that he had once been unable to comprehend. Sleep had never come as easily as it had that night, and it wasn't simply because he was sprawled in Hawke's cushy and spacious bed. Turning his head to his side, he let the ends of his lips curl into a smile. The sight was divine; Hawke bare as nature had created her snugged against him, her head on his shoulder, wearing a serene expression that told him she was in a comfortable slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, and Fenris knew she was awakening, so he closed his eyes to pretend he was dormant as well. Fenris felt Hawke shifting beside him, and a pair of lips began trailing kisses from his chin towards his neck as lightly as a butterfly, which caused him slight tingle sensations. He hummed, pleased.

"Glad to know you're awake." Hawke said smiling against his skin, as she placed several more kisses before pulling back.

"You may continue by my account."

"I'd love to, but there are matters I need to take care of." She said as she moved to get off the bed, dangling her long, defined legs at the edge. Fenris looked after her, as he sat up himself.

"I am right beside you." Fenris said jokingly and Hawke smiled. She hesitated for a second before she leaned over to him to place a kiss on his cheek. It felt strange; being able to be this casual with Fenris was new. Hawke knew that Fenris often recoiled at physical touch, and she had learned over the years to be cautious when she approached him.

"You're a different type of matter, which needs a special care I will provide later."

"You are sure it cannot be done now?" Fenris grabbed Hawke's wrist and gave her a heated look. Hawke blushed, something which Fenris was delighted by, for he loved having that effect on her. After the heartache he had caused her over the years, he was unable to understand how this woman still managed to even give a fig about him, let alone treasure him as she did. Hawke leaned closer to him and looked from his eyes to his lips as she did so. Fenris put his hands on either side of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. The door slammed open that instant.

"Hawke, I asked your servants where you were and they couldn't tell me, you know your brother and- whoa. Can I join in?" Isabella said as she saw Hawke push herself away from Fenris and scramble to cover her body, her face reddening further.

"Isabella, some privacy?"

"They could've just tell me your delicious elf was bending you over. I would've understood. Wait, his markings are-"

"Isabella!" Hawke moved in to cover Fenris, which he found amusing, he had the bedsheets covering the lower half of his body, so he wasn't displaying anything audacious. He found Hawke's jealousy endearing.

"Okay, okay I'll walk out. You're such a prude." Isabella said lazily as she traipsed outside the room. Her voice boomed from the other side calling down 'She's being bent and hammered like a nail, so she might have some trouble walking.' to someone downstairs. Fenris smirked slightly. The wench was dripping with innuendo's and blatant jokes; desire seemed to easily ooze from her, but the truth of her words seemed to reveal itself when he looked over at Hawke. He saw her carefully standing and making her way to her drawer, but she tripped before she could reach it, and it made him chuckle.

"Shut up!" Hawke's face flushed endearingly yet again. Fenris decided to spare her and told her:

"I was not aware that you were having... visitors today."

"Carver and the Hero of Ferelden are here accompanying King Alistair." Hawke bent over to look for small clothes and a breast band to put on, and she put them on when she found them.

"Is that so? Today seems grand then." Fenris felt a bit disappointed. He had hoped to make up for the years they weren't together, especially now, when they had so recently reunited as a couple, and their sheets were still fresh with their coupling.

"Yes, it is. There are some treaties and trade manifestos we're discussing between both lands. Securing ties, that type of thing, and I'd like you to accompany me. " She said as she now pulled over a nice silk dress over her head. A frown marred Fenris's features.

"Hawke, you know I am not one for such... frivolous events. You are a noble from the Amell line, the Champion of Kirkwall, and therefore have power. I am but an elf and an escaped slave. Royalty will not look kindly upon me, and I will only hinder your name."

"No, you aren't simply an elf or an escaped slave. You are the man I am in love with, and if they don't respect that then I am wasting my time with them." Though Fenris felt humbled by her words, he felt the need to be stubborn. He didn't feel worthy of ruining Hawke's name, he had done her enough damage. He was a lowly elf squatting in Hightown. Surely, she could see that even this... semblance of a relationship would be mocked because it was outrageous?

"I insist. I am already undeserving of your love, and even more so because of our difference in status." Hawke pulled on some intricately decorated heels, and walked over to Fenris, her eyes soft.

"No you're not. Fenris, I don't need some pompous noble to marry me to feel worthy, or so that my name can have worth. As you can see, coin is not something I lack after the Deep Roads. You know as well as I that having the 'noble' status does not mean noble in spirit. Actually, it usually means the exact opposite. These nobles are snakes and you have to do a great deal of acting to appease them. Can you really see me being more happy leading a life as a silent wife, with all the unnecessary, gibberish, flattery, and pretense? No, I wouldn't be. It's true that you have adorable pointed ears, and that you lived a terrible life as a slave under Danarius. But that doesn't lessen your worth. Actually, it boosts it. You have character, and wisdom, and a certain openness that only comes with experiences like that. It's true that you may be a little broody, and very cautious when it comes to my kind, but the fact that you are here with me right now proves you're not close minded. You allowed me to be intimate with you, and not only physically, despite all your experiences. You know what is like to work and sweat to live. Those pompous idiots don't know a fig about anything, and have been spoiled rotten. They are not a fraction of the man that you are." It was Fenris's turn to flush this time. Hawke certainly had a way with words, and despite his wide vocabulary, he was not nearly as eloquent as she.

"I...You flatter me." Hawke smiled at his words.

"No, I speak the truth. I would pick you over any flimsy noble, or king any day." It seemed to Hawke that Fenris looked as if he had much to mull over, however, he still had a hint of uneasiness in his posture. She sighed.

"I know... we have just gotten back together. I know this is new for you. It is for me as well. I wanted to present us as a couple, heck if I could I'd let all of Thedas know, but I know you may not feel the same. So how about this: What if I present you as my bodyguard for today?" Hawke saw Fenris visibly relax, and she realized something: What she believed wasn't what he believed. Despite her speech, he still felt like he did not deserve her. The realization scared her. What if he decided that he couldn't do this, yet again? She would be lost if she lost him a second time.

"I would appreciate that. I'm not exactly familiar with these situations, but I have expertise in being a bodyguard." A hint of bitterness slipped with the last few words. No doubt he was remembering some unpleasant experiences with his former master. Hawke didn't want Fenris as a bodyguard, she wanted him as her lover, but she knew she couldn't be so greedy, and allow him to progress at his own pace, not hers. Fenris moved off the bed and began putting on his armor.

"I'm going down to see my brother." Fenris nodded in acknowledgment as he put on a gauntlet. Hawke stared at him for a few seconds, and then she neared him,and put her head on his shoulder and her arms around him in an embrace.

"It feels good to do this." She whispered against his ear, and he slid his arms around her, tightening the embrace as he pulled her flush against him and letting his racing heart calm slightly.

"Sister!" Carver slammed the door opened, and stopped at the sight.

"Does anyone who enters this house have any idea what knocking is?" Hawke said rather annoyed.

"You can have your diversions with your pet elf later. The Warden-commander and the king are waiting at the viscount's keep." Carver stated in a rather impatient tone.

"What, no salutations or anything?" Hawke left Fenris's side and walked towards Carver, gave him a hug, and pinched his cheeks. Carver looked very uncomfortable, but Hawke didn't care, and Carver gave in. Fenris stared at the siblings with a sense of melancholy. Did he, perhaps in the life he lived before, have something similar? He had remembered flitting images of his past self and his sister during the encounter with Varania, but not everything had come back.

"I haven't seen you in years Carver. I hope the years have been kind to you."

"It was unexpected, but I have found my purpose in the Grey Wardens. It was supposed to be my path away from your looming image, but it seems I won't be able to get away from you so easily. The Champion, eh?"

"That's what they call me."

"Took on a horned beast on by yourself?"

"And nearly died for it."

Carver, after a small silence, finally seemed to acknowledge the elf in the room.

"You're still pining after this elf? Maker, I thought you had some sense, Marian." Hawke punched her brother in the arm. Whereas before he would have complained, Hawke was the one who now had to bite her tongue to keep herself from yelping. Seemed like the rumors surrounding the Grey Wardens were true.

Fenris would have ignored the younger Hawke's remark before. However, this time it seemed to have struck a cord. He remembered the condescending looks Lady Amell threw her daughter when she thought the elf wasn't looking. Fenris didn't know why, but he wanted to be accepted by Hawke's family. Perhaps he'd feel a bit worthier then. Fenris spoke up then.

"Get used to it. Hawke will be the mother of my children." Fenris didn't know where that statement came from. It was something he secretly longed for, seeing his beautiful Marian round with child. His child. However, they had never discussed such things, not to mention they had just reconciled. That didn't stop him from reveling in the blush that bloomed on Hawke's cheeks.

"Well, I think that's too much knowledge. I want to be able to eat my dinner today. Anyway sister, now that I know why you were taking so long, I'm here to tell you the meeting has already started."

"What?!"

"You might want to head out now."

Hawke dashed out before he finished that sentence, with Fenris trailing after her.


	2. Meeting the King

This is a male Amell, therefore Alistair remained a single king. Anora is too sassy for him anyway. I have altered and added some of the in-game dialogue of the quest 'King Alistair" to better fit this story. I have the general plan for this story already done, and it's likely I'll have another chapter out by later today. Overall, this story might range from 5-8 chapters. I'm also seeing to update THGP. I know I'm late on that one, but some reason, I haven't gotten to get the story map planned out for that story. I have the general idea, but I don't exactly have an ending yet, and I think that story will turn out longer than this one.

Also I wanted to ask my beautiful readers a question. Are 2000+ words chapters alright for updates, or should they be longer? (with a longer time interval of updates too of course)... Anyway, to end my rant, I hope you enjoy this update!

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Fenris had the urge to pull at his collar. Was it hot in there or what? He was not one for ostentatious, overly extravagant events.

Being situated right behind Hawke gave him a pristine view of the table. The King of Ferelden, which the Hero of Ferelden casually referred to as 'Alistair', had the seat with the highest stature, and the most frivolous at that. The Hero sat on his right side, while a ginger headed man sat one the left. The King's advisor, it seemed. Truly, for a congregation which was to deal with urgent matters regarding the futures of two lands, the decor seemed overdone. It seemed more fit to be called a gala than an assembly. Fenris was simply glad that he was able to be near Hawke, as her ambiance brought him some semblance of serenity amidst all the fidgeting his body urged him to do. Glasses of expensive wine had been laid for all the guests, and had been refilled several times; a sea of inane chatter and whispering had overtaken the table after more than an hour of discussion.

Fenris looked over at Hawke, and saw her chattering with the Hero of Ferelden rather casually, as if she knew the man all her life. He was dressed down in armor, with a finely crafted sword strapped to his back; a practical man. Around from the table, many of the noble women, no doubt bored house wives, gawked at the hero as if they were wolves staring at a piece of meat. Fenris had to admit that the man was handsome with his golden hair, light emerald eyes, and facial tattoo. He also noticed the man had a scar ranging from his eye, curving around his nose, and ending below his bottom lip; it seemed to give him character. However, saying the easy way the man leaned close to whisper something into Hawke's ear, and her giggling in response was uncomfortable was to say Fenris only mildly disliked Danarius. He clenched his fists to stop himself from trying something he might regret.

Hawke's shoulders were visibly rigid. It was no surprise, as sitting across from her was the knight-commander Meredith, and it was no secret that Hawke had little respect for the stern woman. The King, who was sitting at the side of the hero where Hawke was not, beckoned him with a slight hand gesture. He leaned in, and the king whispered something into his ear. The Hero of Ferelden raised a hand, and the table fell silent.

"Brethren and friends, we are about to bring our court to a close. The Ferelden majesty, King Alistair would have a word with all if you please."

"No need to be so formal Zane, after all, we have shed blood together. Dear... Kirkwallians, all these embellishments were unnecessary, I would have been fine with a nice piece of cheese. " Alistair said, and the people laughed. Fenris stared at the man incredulously. This was the man who braved the deep roads and came out alive? This was the man who helped unite all races against a blight? This was the man who led an entire nation? Fenris didn't know what to think of Alistair. Yet again, he saw a slight resemblance of Hawke, and her easy, jesting manner. Maybe it was a Fereldan thing.

"You are modest, your majesty." One noble said, no doubt trying to get into the king's good graces.

"Now, if there is nothing more to be discussed, then you are all dismissed." Alistair said, and suddenly everyone were saying their farewells and moving to leave. Both the king and his friend moved near the exit of the keep to talk to a few of the nobles who wanted to give personal invitations, or more private matters to discuss. Hawke turned towards Fenris.

"Are you okay? I practically felt you fidgeting during the entire congregation." She said, though not mockingly.

"I am fine."

"That's good, because I've had trouble concentrating on the subject matter, and you're to blame." Hawke said with a seductive undertone. Fenris smirked, he conceded with that sentiment.

"Then I trust it is time to say our farewells?" But before they could leave, Fenris's attention was caught by something behind Hawke, so she followed his gaze. The Knight-commander arguing with the king, and Hawke sighed. Of course, who didn't she argue with?

"Let me guess: That's your final answer?" Hawke heard the king said in an agitated voice, with his arms crossed.

"Three mages have fled to Ferelden, and you have intervened to protect them, as if it is your right to do so. What other answer did you expect, your Majesty?" Meredith's tone was icy.

"A 'maybe' might have been nice." the king uncrossed his arms.

"I don't dwell in 'maybes'. I dwell in cold, hard facts, as should you. Perhaps when Ferelden next chooses a king, it will be one that takes his duty to the Maker seriously." Meredith walked away then. _Right_, Hawke thought, _can't blame a bitch for being a bitch, right? _Hawke stood up as she saw the blond man make his way towards her, with the hero of Ferelden and another man who seemed like his advisor trailing after him.

"Well, that was awkward." He muttered.

"That's just Meredith's idea of Kirkwall's hospitality." Hawke said sarcastically.

"Really? Kirkwall brutality must rip the skin off your face then."

"This is the Champion of Kirkwall." the advisor said in a professional tone.

"Right! I am Alistair... uh, King of Ferelden. I believe you are already acquainted with the Hero of Ferelden, Zane. And this is Teagan! My uncle... sort of." Alistair said as he pointed to each one. Fenris felt like palming his face. Was this man really king? _I suppose he seems agreeable enough._

"I am actually Teagan. I'm only sort of his uncle." The advisor said in a monotone voice, and Hawke giggled.

"Hawke." Zane said with a nod.

"I was hoping we could talk. Would have been better timing before I was emasculated by Meredith, but I'm not picky."

"Things are looking up! It's not often when I get called on to meet up with foreign leaders." Hawke said, trying to light up the mood.

"I know you came here from Lothering. A Ferelden refugee who did well for herself, against all odds. I have to admit, I was hoping your influence in Kirkwall might be of use. Things... haven't been going well with Orlais. Without a viscount here, however, there's only the Knight-commander to deal with."

"You were having an argument about mages?" Hawke asked, her curiosity piqued. She wanted to know if her kind were finally a little better off in her land at least.

"Yes, well, apparently I don't feel the same way about mages as the Chantry does. So we're in disagreement. That means they get nasty. They're like that." Hawke was impressed. She certainly liked Alistair. Fenris was not on the same note however. This man, a _king_, no less, was letting mages loose?

"Sounds like the Circle is better off in Ferelden." Hawke said, a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? Sadly, I don't control the Circle. I can only deal with mages outside the Circle... of which there aren't many." Alistair whispered to her. Hawke was very pleased, nonetheless. It was nice that someone with influence was finally doing something for her kind.

"Aren't they in your Kingdom? Why not just kick the Templars out?" Alistair huffed at her words.

"Easier said than done. We'll see what comes of it. Ferelden had a blight to contend with, remember? We're not exactly at our strongest." Alistair had a point.

"A lot of your people fled to Kirkwall, you know." _And lost their families. _Hawke thought sadly.

"I know... I wish I could have helped them. The blight devastated the kingdom and afterwards... well, it hasn't exactly been peaceful. They're welcome back, of course. As are you. But after so many years away, would you still consider it home?" Alistair seemed to hope that for some reason she did, and Hawke would not lie. She missed her country dearly. Fenris wanted to interject at this point and tell him 'No, she does not.' Or at least, she hoped she wouldn't. Yet again, if she wanted to return, he would follow her there if she wanted him to. Perhaps Ferelden wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"Ferelden will always be my home." There was a tone of nostalgia in her voice. Perhaps they could go there on vacation. Alistair was pleased, for he smiled at her words.

"I hope to see you back there some day, then. Preferably sooner. We could use someone like you, Champion."

"You can just call me Hawke, your majesty."

"Then you may simply call me Alistair." Alistair said giving Hawke a charming smile. Fenris's blood boiled. He began counting numbers in his head to calm himself from bursting out in rage. Why was this king looking at his Hawke as if he loved her? Fenris suddenly had the urge to hide Hawke from the world so no one would have ideas of stealing her from him. His thoughts paused for a moment. This possessiveness he felt so suddenly surprised even himself. _Hawke does not belong to anyone, even you. _Fenris told himself, even though he felt disappointed, and ironic at that sentiment, for he was a former slave.

"Especially you, Alistair. You need a queen to bear you heirs, or else the Theirin line will die off." Bann Teagan said. Alistair blushed profusely, and Hawke smiled. Fenris was fuming however. He wanted to say that Hawke wasn't just some sort of baby farm he could use to preserve some legacy! How dare they suggest that! And why was Hawke smiling?

"That's a great idea, actually. Besides, Marian's a beauty, isn't she? And she's single." Zane added to the conversation. Hawke blushed, and it made Fenris furious. Marian? Since when was this man on first name basis with Hawke? Fenris had known her for years, and he hadn't even used Hawke's first name yet! How dare this man use her name after just meeting her? And single? Fenris had another urge, and this time it was to grab Hawke by the waist, or take her hand, or anything. Anything that would scream 'She's mine! Go away!'. However, it was too early, his logic tried to reason with him, they had just gotten back together the day prior. Besides, if Fenris had a problem being intimate in private, he had no doubt more trouble with it in public. He looked at Hawke. Was she not going to deny it? Fenris had another mood swing, this time feeling very dejected. He was an elf; of course she wouldn't admit it. He was beginning to feel rather dizzy, with the roller coaster of emotions and thoughts he was having.

"Marian, is it?" Alistair said, more to himself, trying out her name on his lips.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful lady."

"You flatter me, your majesty." Hawke said, a bit bashful.

"Correction: Alistair."

"Alistair." She said a bit hesitant, and Alistair smiled at her. Fenris stormed off then, before he attempted to do something rash. Was she flirting with another man in front of him? Fenris didn't understand anything and didn't think he wanted to. Fenris knew that he would have to deal with a very bothersome amount of courting to his Hawke, _not mine, _ he corrected himself, but why now? Why when he had just gotten back with her? It didn't sit well with him at all. He didn't see where he was going, he just knew he didn't want to be in there, experiencing all the blatant flirtations and suggestions to Hawke.

"That strange elf has been boring holes at us since we got here." Zane said.

"That's Fenris. He's... my bodyguard." Hawke said, looking concernedly after Fenris. Where was he going? She really wanted to go to him. Surely he knew that the reason she wasn't saying anything was to not put him in the spot... right?

"Well, he's a cheery one. Is he Dalish? Those markings in his body don't exactly look like Dalish tattoos though." Alistair said thoughtfully.

"No, he's a city elf. The markings are lyrium."

"Lyrium? How is he-" Alistair started, in astonishment.

"He's had a colorful past." Hawke said before he could continue, she wanted to really head over to Fenris now, without appearing too rude.

"Impressive. He must be a very useful bodyguard." the hero added.

"He is. And I am afraid I must cut our meeting short, I have to make sure my body guard doesn't also bore holes into people's hearts." Zane chuckled at Hawke's words, not knowing she was being literal.

"By all means. We'll be here all this week." Alistair informed Hawke with a slight smile. Her next words, she spoke rapidly.

"Yes! I'll see you soon! It was an honor to meet you, your Majesty. Zane! I'll see you at the estate later."

"Sure thing, cousin." Hawke dashed after Fenris then.

"Cousin?! Have you never thought to tell me this?" Alistair exclaimed in astonishment, his voice becoming a bit high pitched.

"I had to get back at you for hiding the royal bastard thing from me." Zane said playfully.

"What! That was years ago!"

"Yup."

"Who's the bastard now? You've gotten a bit too sassy, don't you think?"Alistair punched him in the shoulder.

"Not at all. Hey, we can actually be brothers now, if you marry my cousin."

"Well, then I suppose we should get started then." Alistair replied.

"I suppose we should."

"I hate you."

"And I you."

Teagan sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Maker, you two are like children."


	3. In Love and War

**I know it will cross the reader's mind at some point that Hawke is a mage, and cannot be queen, but I have something worked out for that which will be explained in later chapters. Thank you so much for stopping by and reading! Hope you guys enjoy this slightly longer update.**

**Disclaimer: The poem is not mine, it is "There is a Garden in Her Face" By Thomas Campion. **

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Hawke had been looking for hours, and Fenris had yet to appear. The first place she checked was his mansion, but to her luck, he wasn't there so Hawke decided to head over to the Hang Man in Lowtown. When she had entered the tavern, she went straight to Varric's suite, for the dwarf had eyes everywhere. If Fenris had come, then Varric would likely know. She was met with disappointment however, as Varric had no news of the elf's whereabouts.

"Did he leave in a fit of broody pique?" Varric asked, a quill and parchment in hand.

"You could say that... I feel responsible though. I need to find him." Varric scribbled away as she spoke. Hawke went over to the dwarf, snatched the parchment, and ignited it with her magic. Varric looked devastated.

"You're not writing about this Varric."

"Hawke, I have readers to contend to!"

"Then they will have to wait. It's too soon, Varric."

"Fine, fine. You know, the Hero of Ferelden stopped by my humble abode earlier. He was asking about you and Broody."

"My cousin? Why would he do that...? What did you tell him?"

"Your cousin! Hawke, you can't expect me to keep _this _a secret!" Varric said, completely ignoring Hawke's question.

"You have permission for that. What did you tell him though?" She repeated.

"I said that if he was trying to court you, that he was wasting his time because you were smitten with Broody. He laughed at me, and asked if you two were together, and I said I didn't know, but that you have been single for seven years waiting for him. I didn't tell him about the... affair you two had though. Figured that was private."

"Varric! Why would you tell him all that?!" Hawke blushed.

" Blondie is to blame too! Besides Hawke, everyone knows you're single only because of the elf. Oh, he also asked for your favorite type of flower, which was why I thought he was trying to court you in the first place."

"Dammit Anders! Can I not have privacy even with my own friends? ...I suppose I'm glad you didn't tell him of the affair though. Did you tell him about the flower?"

"No, I told him he didn't have a chance. But Merrill was there and she told him how you loved the roses in the imaginary Viscount's garden."

"Oh. Why would he care about any of these things though?"

"You should ask him yourself."

"I will. Thank you Varric. I think I will go home now, I need a long shower."

"Sure thing Hawke. Just let me ask you something: Have you and Broody been rolling the bedsheets yet?"

"Varric!" Hawke's blush deepened.

"Do you need more explicit descriptions?"

"No! And yes, we're back together. Happy? No one is supposed to know though, so don't say a thing yet."

"Oh, fearless leader, how you torture the writer in me! But no matter, the coin Blondie now owes me will allow this dwarf to survive this. " Hawke rolled her eyes, but a smile eased her features. She left the Hang Man then, and began making her way towards her home. It was quiet, there was no interruptions from any bandits or suicidal bigots to Hawke's relief. Bodhan greeted her as she entered her estate.

"Good evening to you, mistress. The younger Hawke has already turned in for today, he's resting in your mother's room. I must also inform you that the Hero of Ferelden stopped by earlier to speak to you, but he departed when I told him you were not home." _Here too? Well I did tell him to come see me. He probably came here first and then headed to the Hang Man to look for me._ Hawke thought to herself.

"I see. Did he leave a message?"

"That he did. He said that he would come tomorrow instead since you were not present. Also, he asked for the whereabouts of messere Fenris, but I told him I was afraid I didn't know."

"Thank you Bodhan, I appreciate it." Hawke smiled at the shorter man. _So he asked for Fenris again huh? Why so curious? At least Bodhan didn't tell him anything Seriously, he should be asking me, not other people._

"It is no trouble."

"I have one more thing to ask of you before you turn in, if you don't mind."

"Of course. Anything, madam."

"Can you prepare my bath? I'd be eternally grateful."

"Right away." The dwarf said and began moving to do as Hawke said.

The water was prepared soon after, and Hawke had stripped from her dress. She dipped a toe into the tub to test the temperature of the water, and finding it to her taste, she slipped into the warm water. She tried to relax, but found herself very tense and worried over Fenris._ He'll come back to you when he's ready. He always does. _She told herself attempting to relax. However, finding that she still could not ease her tension, she scrubbed herself clean quickly and stepped out of the tub. She wrapped a towel around her body, and one around her hair. After drying off, she slipped on a simple night gown and went to be bed. Sleep eluded her, however, as she twisted and turned. Eventually she sighed, searched for a sleeping potion Anders had given her not too long ago, and drifted into a dreamless oblivion.

It was the midst of night when Fenris came back to Hawke's estate, the room was cloaked in darkness. He silently stepped towards her bed, where she was in deep slumber, and sat next to her. He stroked her hair softly, and her smell wafted to his nose. She smelled clean, lavender among other flowers, and Fenris inhaled her scent. Hawke stirred and awoke to a Fenris who was massaging her head. She moved about lazily, stretching, but suddenly became very tense. She sat upright immediately, which caused her to be dizzy.

"Fenris?"

"Shhh. I am here."

Hawke there herself in his arms and they embraced.

"You stupid elf! I was so worried!"

"No need to worry now." Fenris whispered into her ear.

"You smell of alcohol." Hawke pulled back and tried to look at him through the darkness.

"I was... drinking." Hawke sighed, but slipped her through Fenris's hair, and summoned a healing spell, her magic shimmering off her fingertips with an ethereal glow. She felt Fenris immediately relax at her touch.

"Is that better?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad." Hawke smiled at him in the darkness.

"Hawke, we must speak. I hope there is a sufficient explanation to what I have to ask of you."

"Ask anything!" Hawke seemed so honest and earnest, which had him faltering in his resolve to ask her about all his insecurities. Perhaps he misunderstood? There was a sort of comfort in talking while dark, but Fenris didn't want to start a fight over his jealousy so soon in their relationship and so late into the night. He decided to ask his most pressing question.

"Just answer one question: Do you care for me?"

"Fenris, what kind of question is that?"

"I must know."

Hawke leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a very tender kiss.

"I thought I made it clear that I adore you." She said as she pulled back.

"I... yes. I've just been... puzzled." Fenris now very much struggled to find words. What was it that he wanted to ask her again? Damn this woman for having such power over him! A simple kiss, and he felt reassured already.

"You made them believe you did not have a lover." he pressed himself on to say.

"Oh, yes. I knew that would come up. We had agreed that you would go as my body guard, remember? I thought that you didn't want our relationship to be publicized."

"We are together Hawke. You should not be giving other men false hopes then."

"I know. But it's very difficult to deny that I am single while not putting you in the spot. Would prefer that I tell them about us?"

"No... Yes. I don't know."

"You can't have it both ways, Fenris."

"I know." Fenris felt frustrated at himself and at Hawke. Why did was he making petty things so important? And why didn't Hawke have a clear answer for him, like she usually does?

"Does that help ease some of your confusion?" Hawke asked concernedly. Her concern for him made Fenris feel very foolish in the first place.

"Some. It is late. We'll discuss everything tomorrow. I have much to think on."

"You're leaving? Already?" Hawke asked in a very dejected voice.

"There are things I must take care of before I face you again. I'll be back tomorrow." It pained Fenris to hear Hawke ask so dejectedly. He felt worse when he realized that this must look very similar to night that he had left her, but he convinced himself that the time was needed, if this relationship was going to work, which he desperately wanted it to.

"I... see. Just take care, okay?"

"I shall." Fenris moved away from her, and headed out the door, leaving Hawke with a gaping hole in her heart. Where was the rest of that sleeping potion?

* * *

A knock on the door awoke Hawke the next day.

"Yes?" Hawke asked groggily.

"Mistress Hawke, the Hero of Ferelden is here to see you." She heard Bodhan say from the other side of the door.

"I'll be down in a minute." Hawke sat up, and searched for her mirror. She looked at her reflection when she found it, and saw that her eyes were puffy. Was she crying? She didn't remember. Sighing, Hawke got up and changed into her home robes, then headed downstairs.

"Well, hello cousin. Hope I didn't interrupt anything." He told her apologetically.

"Aside from my sleep, nothing."

"Good. Is Carver here?"

"The younger Hawke left early in the morn." Bodhan answered for Hawke.

"I see. Well, there are several things we must discuss."

"Yes, there are." Hawke told him, and motioned for him to follow her into her study.

"Bodhan, can you be a dear and tell Orana to prepare some sweets and tea for breakfast?" Hawke called.

"Indeed!" She saw the dwarf scurry away.

"How is the life as a noble treating you?" Zane said, as he went to sit in a sofa next to a book shelf. Hawke traipsed over to her desk, where she brushed aside the letters to lean against it.

"Aside from burning the pile of letters inviting me to rich, pointless parties, I don't have many complaints. At least I'm not desperate for a meal anymore. What is it like to be 'The Hero of Ferelden'? Such a fancy title."

"Just as exciting as being 'The Champion of Kirkwall." Hawke smiled.

"We're not that different, huh?" She told him.

"It seems like we're not."

"So tell me, how did you escape the Circle? It wouldn't have to do with you sneaking as a warrior, right?"

"It's a long story. And I am trained as an Arcane Warrior."

"What? Not too shabby, cous. I thought that type of magic didn't exist anymore." Hawke said with a playful lilt.

"It does now."

"So how is the sister? I remember talking to her a few times in Lothering." Hawke saw Zane redden slightly.

"She is well. She is currently in Orlais, as she's the liaison between our land and there. Not to mention she's kind of helping Alistair deal with the grand divine."

"Wow, moving up the world, huh? Never thought my cousin would settle for a sister of the Chantry."

"Yeah, a desire to look for unlikely lovers and good looks seem to run in our families." Zane jested.

"Ah, touche."

"Speaking of family, how have you been feeling Marian? My condolences are years late, I know, but it can't be easy... with what happened to your mother and all."

"It's been... tough. I've been alone for all these past years. Bethany was killed by an ogre, and my mother was butchered by an insane mage. My father was already gone before I even came to Kirkwall, and I almost lost Carver in the Deep Roads. I feel like I have failed them all..." Hawke stopped leaning onto her desk, and began pacing. Zane stood up and walked towards her. He saw a white mop of hair, and looked at the door, where the elf from the day prior, the _bodyguard, _was standing very still with a single rose in his hand as he looked at both of them. Stilling Hawke, and making her face him, Zane made sure that Hawke would not look at the door. The warden had gone on a journey the day before to find out some juicy bits about Hawke's life, and what he discovered was very interesting. She had fallen for an elf who was a former slave no less. Zane had encountered Hawke's group of friends in the Hang Man, it didn't take too much digging to find about the whereabouts of the Champion's friends. To his surprised, he had also found a trusty comrade of his traveling days; Anders. So the warden had inquired about Hawke, and his fellow spilled the beans, to which the interesting dwarf added some extra bits. Zane had found out that Hawke had been pining for this particular elf for many years, and now he wanted to know if his cousin was still single or not to see how much he would have to work in getting his cousin hooked up with Alistair, his best friend. Which was something he was going to find out very soon.

"I have missed you, you know. It's been bleak here without you. Can't you stay a bit longer?" She told him, and there it was, the perfect opportunity! Zane pulled Hawke close and gave her a kiss. Not an actual kiss, of course. His cousin was very pretty and all, but she was still his cousin, not to mention he was loyal to Leliana. He had kissed her cheek, but he knew that from Fenris's angle, it looked as if he had kissed her lips.

"I'm here as long as you need me, Marian." He told her, as he laid his head on her shoulder, and that did it. The elf looked much surlier than before, he crushed the rose he had in his hand and he cleared his throat. Hawke snapped to look at Fenris, and pushed Zane off of her.

"I had come here to apologize, Hawke, but it seems you're well off without me." Fenris said and he turned to leave.

"Oh no! Fenris, it's not what you think at all!" Hawke rushed after him as he walked into the foyer, Zane following after her very amused at the commotion. Hawke grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving, and Fenris's markings came to life, to which the warden was very impressed by.

"Fenris please! Listen to me!"

"Let go, Hawke. I now see that I did mean little to you. After all, how does a slave compare to the Hero of Ferelden? You're even on first name basis."

"Fenris don't be so stubborn, this is my cousin!"

"Is that how you're attempting to conceal this, Hawke?"

"Yes, Marian, I had believed you when you told me you loved me. You would deny me? In front of an elf, no less?" Zane said as he acted the victim as well.

"I am leaving." Fenris said, his tattoos died off, and he sounded defeated, not to mention he was felt his heart plummeting into an abyss.

Hawke tightened her grip on Fenris to prevent him from going, as she realized the scheme her cousin had planned, and she turned angrily towards him.

"You planned this didn't you? You asshole!" the sound of a smack resonated through the room, and the force of Hawke's slap had turned Zane's head. Even though she had used her non-dominant hand, the impact had been strong. Zane began laughing.

"Stop being an idiot Zane, don't do this to me!" Hawke yelled.

"Okay, okay. I had my fun." He said, wiping a tear. Fenris looked at the warden. Was he really kidding? Yet if they were really family, then that would explain much. He wasn't feeling much better though, he had just experienced another emotional crash.

"Zane, this is Fenris, and I am in love with him. I have been single for seven years because of him." Hawke said quickly. Damned the consequences! If Fenris was angry at her later, then so be it. She wanted Fenris to know that she would never deny him before anyone.

"I know cousin, I did my research. In your last letter, you had told me you were single, I just wanted to know if it was still true."

"It was true at the time! Fenris and I just reconciled two days ago. But you could've just asked, moron!" Suddenly, Fenris felt very angry. He stomped over to Zane.

"It was more amusing this way." Zane shrugged.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Fenris snarled, as he grabbed Zane's collar, but the warden didn't back down.

"That was for rejecting my cousin for seven years." Zane had to give it to the elf, he did an excellent job of intimidating. Zane hadn't been thrilled this much even when he faced the broodmothers in Amaranthine.

"Fenris, please! My cousin's an idiot." Hawke said as she hugged his waist from behind. Fenris let go of Zane's collar then. She felt him relax, and she spotted the rose he had crushed in his gauntlet.

"Is this for me?" She gentle grabbed his fist and opened to reveal the now wilted flower.

"It was. It is spoiled." He said softly, and Hawke gave him a huge smile. That was the sweetest thing Fenris had done yet, and she felt her heart swell.

"It's perfect. By the way, I've been waiting for you to call me by my first name. You can use it whenever you want." Hawke told him tenderly, and saw his ears redden a bit. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Fenris and Hawke looked at each other eyes.

"Give me one second." She said, and softly squeezed his gauntlet. She headed towards the door to reveal a young elven boy with a very large arrangement of different colors of roses. Hawke being too stunned to say anything, let the boy pass through and he set down the flowers, which was almost as big as the boy himself. The little elf reached out a hand, and Hawke was in a trance for a second. The elf waved his hand impatiently, and Hawke quickly reached into her pocket to compensate the boy. She found a few silver, and dropped it in his hand. The boy cleared his throat as he took out a note out of his pocket and began reading a bit brokenly:

"There is a garden in her face  
Where roses and white lilies grow;  
A h-heav'nly paradiees- paradise is that place  
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow.  
There cherries grow which no-none may bye-buy,  
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.

Those cherries fairly do on- enclose  
Of aree-orient pearl a double row,  
Which when her lovely laughter shows,  
They look like rose-buds fill'd with snow;  
Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy,  
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry.

Her eyes like a-angels watch them still,  
Her brows like bended b-bows do stand,  
Th- threat'ning with peers- piercing frowns to kill  
All that attempt with eye or hand  
Those sacred cherries to come night- uh, nigh,  
Till 'Cherry ripe' themselves do cry." And just like that, the boy left.

"Okay, I swear I did not plan that... completely." Hawke glared at Zane.

"Whose is that from, Hawke?" Fenris asked, and Hawke was afraid to find out. She didn't want Fenris to leave on a bad note yet again. Nonetheless, she took a note that was in the arrangement and read.

"A little bird told me you like roses, hope you like them... Alistair." Hawke said carefully, and saw Fenris drop the wilted rose, and a note, -was that there before?- and moved past her, leaving for the door.

"Fenris, no! Come back!" She tried to reach for him, but he was fast and slipped out of her grasp. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she let them spill freely. With a defeated posture, she went and knelled before the crushed rose and the note, picking it up carefully and bringing it to her heart.

"I will leave you in private now, cousin." Zane said but Hawke ignored him, so he headed out the door. _Now is the best time get the elf out of the picture. In love and war, everything counts, right? _And Zane continued on in search of the elf.


	4. A Proposition

**So... Hey there... No, not the tomatoes! I'm allergic to them! *ducks* okay, no I'm not. But I believe an apology is in order, as I haven't updated in a good while. I'm sorry, I was so burned out with school... but it is finally summer! And I'm am finally adult! Okay, no one cares, I know. **

**Anyway, I tried making this a bit longer than usual. Man, I wonder how those authors with 15k+ words chapters do it... I have a new-found respect for them. **

**On a brighter note, did anyone know Gideon Emery (voice actor for Fenris) sings? Youtube it. You'll melt. He's on Teen Wolf now! Don't mind me... I'm just flailing my arms and squealing like a perfectly normal and sane person.**

**To end my rant, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

He was the flawless depiction of his namesake as he paced back and forth in front of the unlit fire. A little wolf. Fenris's lips curled into a bitter smile; even after the fortunate death of Danarius, his seal and his essence still remained. It pursued him where ever he went, what ever he did. In the corner of the room stood a shattered mirror, one that had been there for years. Fenris remembered how he had driven an angry fist into it in a fit of anger.

_The mage, not his Hawke, but the abominable healer, had served to infuriate him many times. It wasn't surprising, but that particular day, he had crossed a threshold. Hawke, as any formidable leader did, was at the front of the adventuring entourage, allowing herself to slip into conversation. Entering the gates to Kirkwall, Hawke sighed in relief; she had many things to tend to, and she felt Fenris' urgency to leave as soon as they had finished the menial task the Circle's herbalist, Solivitus, had required of them. Fenris, who had usually trailed behind her in order to secure proximity, for the sake of defending his mage, had taken to lingering at the end of the party. _

_In combat strategy terms, him being the tank benefited the rear position, since he would serve as a tough barricade in case of an ambush. Reality, however, dictated differently. It had been a few months since he had left Hawke in the midst of night, and the wounds were still fresh. Rather than healing, Fenris felt his own sentimental lacerations rotting, especially in that moment as he saw the abomination taking the spot beside Hawke that had once been rightfully his. Fenris clenched his fists as Hawke giggled at something the other mage told her. He despised moments as this; the beautiful woman who reigned both his consciousness and subconsciousness alike, exchanging easy camaraderie with his nemesis. Memories of her laughing at his own dry humor swarmed his mind. Those moments had cost him so greatly; long periods of distrust and many arguments had ensued before any sort of civility had formed between the elf and the mage. Yet here was Hawke, the person he trusted as he did himself, so easy and sharing smiles with the person he abhorred. He wondered whether it would have been better to remain in his mansion that day._

"_'Puppy eyes'? I think Daisy meant 'rabid dog' eyes. Elf, you are going to burn a hole into Hawke's skull if you keep staring at her so intensely."_

_Fenris' face only darkened at the jesting comment from his dwarven companion, his eyes still focused on the mage pair at the front of the party. It was when they had reached Lowtown's best tavern, The Hangman, that Fenris snapped. There had been a game of Diamondback scheduled for that night, and Fenris had originally agreed to attend. However, as they arrived at the bar, he suddenly did not feel very well, and he had wanted to retreat back to his mansion, away from prying, analytic eyes, away from the healer, away from Hawke. Before he could make his retreat, he saw the abomination tuck a raven strand of hair behind her ear, followed a kiss on Hawke's cheek, which caused her face to burn brightly. _

_The void hath no fury like an elf scorned._

_Fenris stalked to the taller mage and grabbed his collar tightly, his rage overwhelming his other senses. Vaguely, he heard the shocked cries of Hawke,but he kept glaring at the mage in his hands, who simply glared back at him._

"_Fenris! What's wrong?Why are you angry?" Hawke's voice finally seeped into his ears. There were many answers that were forming on his tongue, but Fenris simply let go of the collar, and almost sprinted towards his mansion back in Hightown. Anders simply kept glaring after the elf, and Fenris faintly heard him muttering insults._

_Fenris strode as fast as he could. When he arrived at his premise, he immediately bolted in through the antique door, which gave a shrilling creak, and headed straight to the cellar. He spotted an Aggregio bottle and took it to his main room. Popping the cork open with his mouth, he downed the contents as if his life depended on it. The liquid left a pleasant warmth in its trail down his throat, and it wasn't long before it began taking effect in his mind. He thought drinking would help him drown his feelings, if even for a while,it had worked for him in the past, however, this time was different. His emotions only seemed to intensify, and he threw the bottle aside, where if shattered. He paced back an forth, very similar as a cage lion would,until he spotted the very mirror his present self was staring at, except that it had not a single crack or denture. He approached it, careful and wary of the object as if it possessed some life in itself. A tremor shook his heart. He was afraid. Not of the mirror, but what he would find in it. He stared at his reflection in the cloak of darkness that covered the room,with the only illumination coming in dimly from the window. Despite the darkness, he could clearly make out his face. The crinkle in the corners of his eyes seemed more defined, as did the one between his eyebrows. He felt older, looked aged and withered in that moment. His elven ears protruded through the tendrils of white hair, and his frown only seemed to deepen. Perhaps if he were a different man, of purely noble intentions, not reduced and degraded, he would be better suited for Hawke. He could not be that man. Hawke was beautiful, and whole, with a childhood and family to recall and count on. Fenris was broken, and bitter, with only a broken past that chased him as did his shadow and had no family to speak of. He hated what he saw in the mirror. It was the only obstacle, it was everything that held him back from what he yearned for, it was himself. An obscure vine of hatred slithered around his heart, and constricted, distorting his elven features into what he had not thought was himself. Raising his fist, he quickly lunged at the mirror, shards flying out everywhere. Fenris looked at his knuckles; blood oozed from his newly formed wounds, trickling down and dripping the floor. Even through his muddled senses, his ears picked up the familiar and distinct sound of trotting feet, and the soothing feminine voice of the woman he adored coming from outside the room. The elf immediately hid his injured fist behind him and turned to the door. Hawke bolted inside_

"_Fenris! Fenris, are you okay?"_

"_Hawke..."_

"_I'll light up the fire." She tried looking around, but it was getting very dark. She clumsily approached the hearth, where she knelt and summoned a flame in her hand. The flames fed and spread easily; light drowned all the darkness. _

"_I heard a crash. You're not hurt are you?" Hawke stood up and approached him, to which he backed away. She noticed this and halted from advancing further. _

"_Why are hiding your hand?" Fenris averted his gaze at her inquiry._

"_That is of no consequence to you." Hawke heard the slur between his words, but felt hurt nonetheless. She looked around, noticing the splatter of blood in the mirror along with the dripping on the floor and she gasped._

"_Fenris, give me your hand." This time she did not stop from advancing to him, backing him into a corner. The incessant bleeding from his hand, and Fenris' wary behavior reminded Hawke of an injured animal. _

"_Leave me be, mage," Fenris said with a growl, and glared at her. A pained looked crossed Hawke's face, and he averted his eyes yet again. _

"_No. Give me your hand," she insisted, reaching out for it, to which Fenris roughly snatched her wrist with his good hand, pulling her closer, and Hawke yelped._

"_You will leave this mansion immediately," He said in a low growl, fanning his wine-induced breath on her face and staring into her widened eyes. _

"_Fenris, please. I- I don't want to see you hurt," Hawke stammered lamely as her lip quivered slightly._

"_Then I am afraid it is too late for that,and your motivation is in vain."_

"_You're drunk, Fenris. Let me see your hand. I will leave right after, I promise," Hawke said with a softened tone. Fear seemed to flicker into Fenris' mossy green eyes. He didn't want her to leave, but he did. He was weak, and Hawke did not need to trouble herself this side of him anymore. He'd discarded her like one would an used tissue, after all. He knew that, his logic knew that very well, but he wanted her to stay. He wanted to be good enough, desperately, and he wanted her to stop frowning. A tortured look passed his gaze, and he shut his eyes tightly. His turmoil tugged at Hawke's heartstrings, and she embraced him. Fenris stiffened._

"_I'm sorry. I know you don't care for me, but just let me be selfish for a little while," Hawke's voice sounded pained. Fenris, relaxed into her. If only she knew the magnitude of his feelings for her... But perhaps it was better that she thought this way. It would only complicate the inevitable, in Fenris' mind. Hawke took her chances and gently brought the injured hand from behind him. She stared into his eyes and scanned for any sort of objection; she found none. Summoning her healing magic, Hawke repaired the lacerated skin after plucking out the remaining shards._

"_All done. That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" A small smile played in her lips, and Fenris only kept staring back at her with an adoring look. Hawke blushed at this and cleared her throat. _

"_I- I should go," She said pulling away, but Fenris stopped her._

"_Fenris?" Hawke's throat became very dry. Fenris' body suddenly fell onto hers, and she grabbed him. He was exhausted from the day's events, not to mention he had down a bottle of wine, and he had lost some blood. More than anything, however, he was emotionally drained. He yearned of submitting to his unconscious. _

"_Fenris!" _

"_I am fine, Hawke, just help me here a bit," he said weakly. Hawke helped him towards his bed, where he laid and closed his eyes. Sitting next to him, she rubbed her fingers gently through his hair; a caress that gave him much pleasure. _

That was the last thing he remembered, for soon after oblivion claimed his waking conscious. When he had next opened his eyes, he was alone. It was a natural, and habitual occurrence, one he was accustomed to usually. Not that day. Waking up alone after having her look after him made him feel... lonely. The cruel irony of what his life represented revealed itself to him as he stared into his own mossy eyes, his face distorted in the shards of glass that remained. The flames danced in his eyes, as did his reflection in the mirror. Wait... his hearth had been unlit. He turned to his side and saw Hawke's cousin leaning against a wall.

"Why are you here?" Fenris' eyes narrowed. Zane smirked, and walked towards him.

"Why! A friendly chat, what else?" The elf closed the gap between them, glaring menacingly into the taller man's eyes.

"You want something."

"Don't we all?"

"Quit your games, lest you would have me spill your guts." Fenris clenched his fists.

"Hmm, I did hear of your... talents. It'd be interesting to see them in motion," Zane said as he walked around the room, checking any inconsequential object as if it held some sort of answer to him. Fenris opened his mouth, but Zane waved him off before he could say anything without looking at the warrior.

"Straight to business; I get it. It's about my pretty little bird of a cousin. I have a proposition for you."

"Oh? What can _you_ possibly offer me?" Fenris crossed his arms, as he stared at the back of the blond man.

"A chance. To give her a better life, that is." the elf's jaded eyes widened for a a fraction of a second, before they narrowed dangerously.

"You're unsatisfied with what I am doing? I'll inform you that I have no care for your opinion. It is neither my position nor _yours _to meddle in what Hawke considers her betterment."

"Me? Unsatisfied? No, Hawke is." A chilling tremor shook the elven warrior's heart briefly, anger washing over and melting his initial shock.

"How would that information be privy to you?" Fenris asked, careful not to thread on the other man's words too completely.

"She will be. Think about it. You're a conspicuous elf, and an ex-slave to boot," Zane began, he was determined to plant the seed of doubt in the warrior's being. This was something Fenris had thought long and hard about, he wanted Hawke, but he was so very afraid. He felt worth little in comparison to Hawke, despite all her reassurances. Somehow, hearing his thoughts voiced by another made him feel ridiculous for even attempting to rank up higher than Hawke's ankles. A cold wave washed over him; the seed had been buried.

"I do not need you narrating my life, I know it well, Grey Warden," Fenris spat.

"Hawke is a noble; beautiful, young, human, and influential in more than a city, with her strong ties to other nations," Zane continued, ignoring Fenris. It was no longer a simple seed; roots sprouted and imbedded themselves in the elf's heart, draining his resolve and words, numbing him with unbearable pain.

"You are not telling me anything I have not already pondered on." Fenris was clenching his fists so tightly, he thought he might have drawn blood.

"And she's lost much of her family. It's something that she is going to want to make up for..." Zane turned to face Fenris with narrowed eyes and proceeded, "Certainly, you do understand that you are not a proper candidate, right? Hawke, the Amell scion, Champion of Kirkwall, possible Viscount and more, with what? Half-_elven _children? If they turn out to be mages, if this whole templar and mage business goes wrong, would you be able to protect them, or give them up to the circle? What about the other magisters? Wouldn't they want you? You were a very valuable asset to Danarius, if I recall correctly, I'm sure the others are itching to get their hands on you. If you are captured, would you be able to live with leaving your family fatherless?" Fenris shook his head involuntarily. His anger left him and dread replaced it. The threats described, he knew, were ones that were very probable.

"And let's suppose things can remain stable, and Hawke retains her noble status. When they grow amongst nobility, every other child will tell of their father's admirable position, and what will Hawke's children say in response?_ 'My father was a _**slave**'" Images of small children with his green eyes and Hawke's silky hair running to their mother, screaming _'I hate him! It's all _**his**_ fault!'_ while pointing at Fenris swarmed the warrior's mind. Thorny vines sprung out next, constricting around his heart, puncturing with the sharp thorns, injecting its oozing substances: doubt, hopelessness, worthlessness. Zane noticed the blank look in Fenris's eyes and smirked.

"Don't try to fool me, elf,I know you doubt your ability to make her happy." Fenris opened his mouth, but he found it was dry. No retort formed in his mind. He let his arms hang loosely at his sides. He had given up. Zane neared Fenris and laid a finger on his lips, a smirk.

"I know you know I am right. That's why I have a proposition ready," Fenris knocked the man's hand away from his face and glared at him, then put space between them as he walked past the blond man and towards the hearth. Shadows danced on his features as the flames swayed and whirled in an entrancing motion.

"Spit it. What is this 'proposition'?" Fenris asked, but he dreaded the answer. He knew what it was, and it was going to leave him scarred. He'd never thought anything could be worse than his lyrium markings and his life as a slave until then. Zane's smirk widened into a grin.

"Let her go," Zane said lowly. Something inside Fenris fractured, and he knew his heart would not be in one piece once the conversation was over. Still, he listened.

''There is a king willing to take her, and with more than the qualifications to make her happy. She will live in the royal palace of her home land, the one I'm sure she has expressed she has missed dearly."

_They were in his mansion, one of the first visits Hawke had ever gifted Fenris with. He had only recently met her, but he was already opening himself to her. She was a woman of wonders. _

"_Tell me," he'd said, trying relating her past to his own "have you never wanted to return to Ferelden?" Hawke seemed pensive; or perhaps nostalgic might have been a better word. _

"_I grew up in Ferelden. It will always be my home."_

Fenris's mind took him to a much more recent occasion.

"_...They're welcome back, of course. As are you. But... after so many years away, would you still consider it home?" The king seemed to carefully inquire. When Hawke answered, Fenris was surprised at the intense melancholy expressed in her words and tone._

"_Ferelden will always be my home." _

The words rang hollow in his elven ears. There was no doubt Hawke wanted to return, but Fenris did not think that the next time she'd go would be without him. What Hawke's cousin was telling him suddenly made much more sense. His train of thought was interpolated by Zane once more.

"Even if she... carries the king's child," Fenris grimaced at the thought "the chance of said child being a mage won't be removed. And the templar and mage dilemma is surely to eventually reach even Ferelden. How is that going to be dealt with?" Fenris carefully inquired. Zane had a ready answer for him.

"As you know, Alistair is working with the grand divine. I also have a very reliable liaison handling matters of the Circle. Not to mention, I came from Ferelden's Circle tower, and I have very strong ties with the First Enchanter and Knight Commander. They owe me a few favors. I am sure this won't be a big problem."

"You... are a mage?" Fenris looked at Zane wearily, and the mage nodded "Why do you wear armor?"

"Funny story. You see, here I was, doing the usual, you know? Stabbing giant spiders and saving damsels in distress from darkspawn, and I chanced upon some ruins while helping the Dalish elves get rid of some pesky werewolves," Fenris quirked his eyebrows. Did this mage think him a fool?

"Okay, I see that look your giving me. Point is, an elf from perhaps Arlathan's time was stuck in a phylactery, and he offered to teach me how to be an Arcane warrior if I let him die in peace."

"You consort with spirits?!" Fenris said angrily.

"What? No! I'm not pulling an Anders, I swear!" Fenris growled at him, and Zane sighed.

"You know what, forget I said anything. You can go back to thinking I'm some crazy but handsome warrior that smells like dogs. I'm demon free, I promise!"

"No one is ever free of demons," Fenris said, almost forlornly. _Talking from experience, are we? _Thought the mage.

"I digressed. Look, Alistair will take good care of her, and she'd be back in her homeland, with the rest of her family. She'd be protected and her biggest harm would be deciding what dress she would wear that-"

"Take her."

"Pardon?"

"Take her. To her homeland," Fenris sounded defeated. _Well, that took less convincing than I thought it would. Once again, my coercion skill have proved to be flawless, _Zane thought triumphantly.

"I knew you were at least sensible."

"On one condition," Fenris added.

"I'm sure we can come to a consensus."

"I... I do not know what will become of me without her... but I want to be updated on her well-being. That is all I ask."

Suddenly, nothing seemed like a good idea to Zane anymore. Guilt gnawed at his insides. He was shamed, by this elf no less. He had considered all the outcomes for Alistair, Hawke, and himself, but had never spared a thought to the broken elf before him. He was willing to give happiness to Hawke, even if the provider wasn't himself. Zane would be greedy. He wouldn't have let Leliana go, even if it meant that she wouldn't be as happy as she could be. He didn't think many people were capable of living with the pain and weight of handing over their treasure to another person. What Fenris had asked for meant that he would remain loyal, even she didn't do the same in return. He'd live with the pain of knowing that she'd be happy elsewhere, while the only remnants he would have of her would be his memories. Pheh. That was irony. Especially after Zane had found out about the elf's past, or his lack thereof. Most if not all mages knew of Tevinter; to some it was paradise, to others it was the Black City itself. For Zane it was the latter. He distinctly remembered the metallic scent of blood, and a teddy bear smeared in it back when the Alienage in Denerim was being purged, by Tevinter magisters no less. Zane had made sure to kill all those mages; to him, they were not of the same kin. It was cruel. He had no doubt that Fenris had to endure worse, however. He had suffered a great deal, and now Zane would be removing any chance of happiness for him. _Shit,I'm just as bad, aren't I? Stop thinking brain, before I change my mind. _Zane repeated in his mind like a mantra.

"You are silent. Is... my request too grand to appease?" Fenris asked, his fear almost betraying him in his voice.

_Elf and his funny, noble-like talk. Where does he get his fancy vocabulary anyway? _Zane thought, trying to rid himself of the guilt he felt.

"No. Not at all. It can be arranged for and it shall be done," he replied. Fenris only turned back to the hearth and blankly stared at it.

"Our ship is leaving in a few days. You must break things off with her as soon as you can." Fenris's mouth turned into a snarl, and vile rose in his throat. Maker, he did not want to do this. But... the mage had a point. Hawke deserved better... deserved more, not just some broken elf without a past and little chance and willingness of moving up in the social ladder. She deserved a man who was whole and could make her happy, give her a normal children, happiness and a proper life.

"I will make arrangements for that."

"Perfect."

"Then we are done."

"Ay, we are." Zane turned to the door, but stopped before disappearing.

"Fenris," Fenris turned to him, and Zane hesitated for a bit, "I... just wanted you to know that you are very courageous. I appreciate this sacrifice." _I can see why my cousin fell in love with you... _

"Just... go." said, his voice slightly cracking. Zane's eyes widened, and he rushed out the door as fast as his feet could take him. He didn't want to see the elf in a vulnerable moment. Not only did he value his heart where it was, but also he didn't think he'd be able to finish his scheme if he remained. He'd have to make sure to get everything done before he changed his mind. _It's for the better._ He told himself as he went to make arrangements for their extra companion on the way back to Ferelden.


	5. Goodbye

Earlier update this time, my lovelies! I hope you enjoy this. Feel free to drop your thoughts by.

Wait *hands you all a tissue* just in case. No, it's not so you can wipe your tears from my bad writing... I hope so, anyway.

Happy reading!

* * *

Hawke was terrified.

She had not stopped moving anxiously around in her room. She had tried everything: rearranging decorations and books from her shelf, writing letters back to people who requested her help, pacing in front of the fire, reading, the list continued... laying in her bed only served to remind her of the absence of her significant other. Here and there she would actually tremble. She had trembled before, quite visibly, but not from fear. When that ogre had lunged at Bethany and killed her, her body and entire being shook, her temperament getting the best of her, which was a rare occasion.

She had trembled again as she cast lethal spells towards the blood mage, Quentin, even after his body had been devoid of life. The putrid stench of wounded flesh was still in her nostrils, and she sincerely hoped that the maniac was rotting in the Void.

Still, she never shook from fear. That is, until then.

Fenris had not returned to her after he left, and even though the night was not yet over, she felt an increasing panic grip her mind. Ominous. Perhaps that was a better description. Never had she thought that having her family back for a bit could cause such ruin to her life. She wanted to fix things with Fenris. They had, after all, only very recently reconciled. Having no clue on where to commence did not help her cause. Her logic told her she had done nothing wrong as she reran all the events that had transpired repeatedly in her head. Her heart, however, only served to make her feel worse, and branded her the culprit to the mess she now had at hand. She realized she had stopped moving around in her trance, and it was then when she noticed the note Fenris had dropped earlier laying on her desk. Running her hand through her hair while taking a shaky breath, she decided to finally take a look at it.

Approaching it carefully, meekly, as a child would a weapon, she let her hand reach for the neatly folded note, and unfolded it.

_Meet me at my mansion tonight, my bird. _

Short, concise, and with so much more meaning lying between his words. That was Fenris.

Maker, she had wanted to give him space. To let him recover and handle his issues at his own pace, not at hers. But she wanted to see him, to make sure that he was okay, and to let him know that he meant so very much to her. It'd been over seven years since her arrival in Kirkwall, most of that time she had spent distracted with the broody elf. Happiness was not a prevalent concept in her life; having the people she loved torn away from her seemed to have become a cruel habit of some paramount invisible manipulator. She was not ready to lose yet another, and more than that, she was determined to not lose Fenris. Taking a coat from her closet, she wrapped it around her robe unthinkingly, heading to the derelict mansion not far off her own home to settle not only the situation, but her arrhythmical heart.

* * *

"Well, you're coming awfully late," Alistair said as he looked up from his book to the man that opened the door. He had been sitting in his desk.

"What are _you_ doing up so late?" Zane retorted as he made himself comfortable in one of the couches across from his friend.

"Hey, I asked first... I have to catch up on much of my paperwork, not to mention with all the boring 'How to be a snotty noble' etiquette and 'How to be a king for dummies and bastard princes'" Alistair turned a page as he turned back to his book and scribbled notes with his quill on the extra parchment.

"You're being awfully compliant. Isn't it enough that you've been king for years now?"

"Tell that to the indecisive nobles and the Chantry who decide to keep bringing out volumes of the same book with added pictures."

Zane groaned "Can't Alistair come out to play?" Zane said yawningly.

"I sincerely hope that isn't one of your awkward innuendos..." Alistair muttered "You've not answered my question."

"I was taking care of business. You know, with my cousin." Alistair dropped his quill then, and turned to stare at his friend.

"Did... did she like the gift?" Alistair asked nervously, and Zane smirked.

"She loved it."

Alistair sighed with relief, "Good," he muttered silently before continuing, "Hey, I have to ask, your cousin _is _unattached right?"

_She will be, soon. _Zane thought before answering "Yes, she said so in her letter, remember?"

"I remember. I only wonder because my brain is having a hard time comprehending how a woman so beautiful and popular could go unmarried."

"Maybe it just means she was meant for you?" Zane teased.

"Oh great. Now you're making me blush. Don't you have things to do? Like getting out of my room?"

"But it's so much more entertaining here!" Zane whined playfully.

"Yes, make fun of poor Alistair, that's_ always_ fun," Alistair said with feigned disdain.

"I haven't even gotten to the best part yet," Zane said cockily as he crossed his legs.

"And that is?" Alistair raised an eyebrow.

"Why, dear friend, we need to make room on our ship back. We have an extra companion."

"And who might that be?" Alistair asked. He recognized the narcissist expression his friend had when he had accomplished something. Realization dawned on Alistair.

"Oh wait. No, you didn't... Really? Already?" Alistair said with surprise and amazement, to which Zane's smirk only widened and he slightly nodded.

"You beast! What would I do without you?" He said as his visage broke into one full of excitement.

"What, indeed."

"Okay, you can leave my room now," Alistair said trying to be serious, but his wide grin wouldn't let him. Zane groaned again in protest.

"I don't want to give you more fodder by letting you see me squealing like a little girl," Alistair explained. Rolling his eyes at the dramatic antics of his friend, Zane stood up and retreated to his own room.

* * *

It had begun pouring midway Hawke's journey to her lover's home. Nature had warned her first with cold breezes and light drizzle, then it progressed onto an unrelenting storm, even drenching her house robe underneath her coat so that the fabric stuck to her alabaster skin. Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed in the skies above. It made her gasp in a high pitch, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she quickened her pace. However, she paid the storm no more heed, for the dominant thought in her mind was that of her destination.

A corner turned, and there it was, the creaking door to the antiquated manor. She momentarily paused in front. Not being sure of what she would say made her hesitant. Her pause allowed drops to trickle from her dark tresses onto her face, which stuck on her skin in the process. A shiver reminded her body to seek a dry and warm place, and she opened the door without announcing her presence, stepping inside the building. It had been very dark outside, but inside there was light emanating from the foyer, and Hawke let herself stand still for a few seconds. A puddle gathered underneath as her clothes released their extra moisture. With a heart that pounded like a galloping horse, Hawke made her way towards the room she knew Fenris was likely to be in, her boots swishing with every step she took. Holding onto the banister as she climbed the stairs, Hawke attempted to better adjust her eyes to the changing density of light. She crossed the space between the stairs and onto the room and paused to scan the room. It seemed empty. Suddenly, she was pinned to the floor, a strong hand tightly gripping her wrists above her head as she wriggled under the weight that now sat on her body.

"Fenris!" she gasped.

"Hawke?" a tone of surprise colored his deep baritone as Fenris stared down at his lover. Dread coursed his body then. He remembered his words to the mage earlier, and he knew what he was supposed to do, but he did not expect having to do it so quickly.

"Danarius is dead. You don't need to worry anymore," Hawke said trying to loosen her wrists from his grasp.

"There still remains all sorts of miscreants. We can never be too careful." Fenris tried to keep his tone even. He didn't notice Hawke struggle, he was in a trance as he looked at drenched woman below him. Somehow, she looked divine in that moment, her skin glistening and glowing with the illumination of the hearth, her eyes twinkling with the softness that was her, her hair wet and disheveled, waved by the water it held. It only caused him more agony when he recalled his earlier promise. Hawke snapped him out of his trance when she called his name.

"Fenris, I'm shivering. Can I go dry off?" Fenris blinked once, twice, and he loosened his grip, getting off of her as he did so.

Hawke leaned forward into a sitting position before standing and heading towards the hearth, where she took off her coat and threw it on the floor. Fenris followed suit.

"Why are you here?" Fenris cringed. His words sounded familiar to his ears as he recalled the conversation with Hawke's cousin.

"I need a reason to come see my lover?" Hawke asked as she brought her hair to one side and squeezed the water out. The ominous feeling that had been present earlier seemed to have begun to return once more, for the tone in her elf's voice suggested she was (or at least it made her feel) unwelcome.

"Hawke..."

"I just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?" Hawke asked as she turned from the hearth to look at him, a saddened expression settling in her face. Shame filled Fenris as he avoided her gaze. He remained silent for a moment.

"We need to talk," Fenris said. Hawke's heart began panicking as it picked up speed.

"Yes, we do," She said evenly.

Another moment of silent passed between them.

"Hawke,"

"Fenris," they both spoke simultaneously.

Fenris feared he might not get a chance to hear her again if he started.

"You may speak first," He told her. Hawke's eyebrows pulled together in worry, and she looked down, allowing her hands to fidget. Fenris found it endearing, but willed his thoughts away so he could remain focused.

"I... we..." Hawke started, and then cleared her throat before continuing, "we ended on a bad note earlier. You were angry, and so I came to apologize," Hawke raised her head to look at him and found him staring at her with a bewildered expression.

She came to apologize. _She _came to apologize. She _came _to apologize. She came to _apologize. _All the meanings of the single phrase formed in his mind. He was indeed bewildered. He needed to immediately rectify her thinking.

"Hawke, you have not wronged me in any way," he told her as he directly stared at her. Her expression only seemed to sadden further however as she once again looked away from him.

"Then?" she asked timidly, "lately you seem so far away, so distant from me, and I don't know what to do about it. It's driving me crazy." she finished, still not daring to look at him. Fenris furrowed his eyebrows, allowing his heart to crack a little at her words. He deeply sighed. He was not ready for it. He was not ready for it at all. _You must be ready, _a voice inside his head told him _She is better off without you._

"I-I know," He simply said. Hawke whipped her head in his direction, hurt and anger marring her face, and her eyes seemed to have brightened further.

"That's it? That's all you have to say? Do you know how I've felt lately? I was so happy that-that finally we had reconciled after all these years. I thought maybe we'd have a chance at being happy. And then-then this? It hasn't even been one week, Fenris. I thought most of our issues were resolved, but I guess I was mistaken. If you cannot tell me what is wrong, then we can't fix anything," Hawke's throat and mouth suddenly felt very dry, and her voice had quivered as she spoke. But she did not care. What mattered was to fix this so they could move on.

"Perhaps nothing needs to be fixed," Fenris stated as evenly as he could muster. He thought that it would be easier to end it if he acted indifferent about it. He saw Hawke's lip quiver, and his heart only seemed to contract painfully at the sight, but he restrained what his heart did to him from showing on his face.

"Are you... are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" Hawke no longer cared that her voice sounded strained, as if she was about to sob.

"It is for the best Hawke. I am not ready for this."

"I've heard this before," Hawke said, anger evident in her tone, "So everything you told me," _ If I could go back, I would stay, tell you how I felt.'_ his words sounded in her ears as she recalled the memory, and only more invaded her mind haphazardly, _'If there is a future to be had, I will gladly walk into it by your side' "_everything, your apology,"_'That…night…I remember your touch as if it were yesterday. I should have asked your forgiveness long ago. I hope you can forgive me now'_ Hawke wanted to shake her head, her memories were becoming too much for her to bear, _'I thought about the answer a thousand times. The memories, the pain they brought up, it was too much. I was a coward,'_ "your words, was a lie?" Hawke did not notice the tears that had streamed down her cheeks. Fenris had the unbearable urge to stop talking and cradle Hawke to him, to comfort her, he was growing desperate in the wake of her tears, and wanted to be done sooner rather than later.

"I am too broken beyond repair, Hawke. I was a fool to think I could be normal..." Fenris said, desperately looking for words to make the transition better. Hmph. Better. He almost snorted at the notion. He noticed a glimmer of hope shine in Hawke's eyes.

"Is that what this is about?" Hawke said, a teeny part of herself wanting to laugh with relief, as she approached Fenris. She was good with broken things, and putting them back together. Her father had always told she was meant to mend old wounds, if her healing abilities had anything to say about it. Fenris was none more eager if his expression had anything to say about it.

"You wouldn't understand, just let it be."

"No! Fenris, just give me a chance. We can make it better, whatever it is," Hawke said as she stood before him.

"Hawke-" Fenris was cut off when Hawke desperately pressed her lips to his, letting her hands travel to the back of his neck. She seemed to be searching for something as she asked for entrance. Fenris was taken by surprise; he felt his body not cooperating with his mind as his growing heat made clear. He grabbed Hawke's shoulders, gently but rigidly, and pushed her away from him. Hawke looked into his eyes, her furrowed eyebrows and desperate eyes slightly softened.

"Hawke, stop this," Fenris told her sternly. However, Hawke noticed the intense green eyes looking slightly down at her were dilated, until only but a green rim was left, and it made her feel more bold.

"You want me Fenris, so have me. Don't do this," she half-whispered as she fumbled with her robes, trying to rid herself from them. She pulled at them until her cleavage and a pale shoulder showed. Fenris felt his restrain faltering as he saw her stripping for him, and realized he had stopped breathing for a few seconds. His breath became heavier, as Hawke lunged herself at him once more. He tried avoiding her kisses, but she only took the opportunity to kiss his exposed neck. When she reached his ears, he pushed her away from him one more time, this time being more rough but still taking care to not hurt her.

"Hawke," He said gruffly, "stop. You are not some whore to display yourself like that," Her eyes glistened as she looked into his own, and her lip quivered.

"I'm not getting payed, and I want to do it,"

"Even if you succeed, my mind won't change,"

"So what am I suppose to do? Tell me what to do to change your mind, Fenris," She told him, "I know you still care for me, even if you say otherwise."

Fenris sighed and pulled her into an embrace, to which she slightly gasped, her body stiffened.

"Yes, I do," he told her. _More than you know, _he thought. Hawke seemed to relax at his words and she buried her face in the crook of his neck as she wept.

"Then? I don't understand. Fenris, please, tell me," she pleaded.

"There is nothing to be said, I have already made my decision." Fenris surprised himself when he said that. He wasn't sure he could make it, especially with his heart contracting as it did and he himself on the verge of tears.

"Fenris..." Hawke said brokenly in one last feeble attempt.

"Hawke, trust me. That is all I ask. You may not see it now, but you'll be grateful later." Hawke snorted through her tears. Grateful? _Grateful?_

"For having my heart broken to pieces?" She asked meekly, still trying, but knowing it would be in vain.

"No. You will understand it all when it is right." Fenris was not feeling much better himself, though he supposed he did a better job at hiding it. His already shattered heart would turn into dust at the rate everything was occurring to him. Hawke pushed him away then and fixed her robe. She then wiped her tear-stained eyes hand with the back of her, despite the ever-continuous flow of salty drops.

"Fine, but when I am with another, I won't spare a glance in your direction," She scathingly told him through her tears as she walked to retrieve her coat and moved to leave.

"You won't see me at all, my bird, you won't see me at all," Fenris said wretchedly as she walked away, though he was unsure whether she'd heard him or not. He supposed it didn't matter, for the gaping hole in his heart would not close regardless.

* * *

Carver had arrived late to the Hawke estate after his duty was over. Even with the blight over, there seemed to be many problems to contend to. The younger Hawke had been close to ravenous once he did arrive, and the only thought in his mind was to raid the larder. He served himself enough food to feed all the inhabitants of the mansion, but it was something he was already used to; he had even been warned about after he had become a Grey Warden after all. True to the elder Warden's word, his appetite had increased tenfold. The door to the estate opened, and Carver grew still. He heard the swishing sound of wet boots and a constant sniffing coming from the foyer. Peeking his head from the kitchen, he saw his sister walking with a tired posture.

"Sister? I thought you had turned in already," He said as he bit the piece of bread and cheese in his hand. She remained silent. Carver became worried. Her sister would have not stayed quiet, especially with all fuss she had been making lately over his coming back home. Her sudden change in demeanor was very suspicious.

"Marian?"

"Shut up, Carver," Her voice croaked, and it startled the younger brother.

"Marian, are you sick?" He rushed to where she was and grabbed her face. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her makeup was smeared. No, those were not signs of a cold. The thought almost frightened Carver. The last time he had seen his sister cry was after they had arrived in Kirkwall, when there was finally enough time for them to mourn, and she cried over the loss of Bethany. He hadn't even actually seen her cried, but had seen her eyes slightly red and puffy after she had disappeared for hours. The sight before him was startling.

"Marian, what's wrong?" He saw her lip quiver, and her eyes water.

"I couldn't... I couldn't do anything..." She said brokenly. Carver was confused by this.

"About what?"

"He left me," Carver stared at his sister's face for a moment to let the words sink in.

"The elf?" He kept staring, and she eventually slightly nodded as more tears rushed down her cheeks.

"That bloody fool. I am going to-"

"No Carver, please. It will be harder for me if we all make a fuss about it," Hawke told her younger sibling.

"Pack up your things," Carver commanded.

"What? Why?" Hawke asked as she wiped her tears.

"We're going back to Ferelden."

"What? Since when do I even take orders from you? I can't. My life is here," Hawke told him.

"Come on, sister. If only for a little while, to let you clear your head. You know you need it."

"I have things to do, Carver. I can't just leave," She said, though the idea of returning to her homeland held great appeal, _But Fenris... _a voice in her head told her before another one refuted it _No. He left you again, he won't miss you. _More tears welled in her eyes, and she let them fall.

"Where is the adventurous sister Varric tells stories about? Where is the adventurous Champion everyone follows?"

"I don't know, Carver. I am different now. And returning to my homeland is hardly adventurous," she said as she slightly quirked her eyebrow.

"You can come back to this mess whenever you want."

"I'll... think about it," She finally said as she walked away from her brother and up the stairs towards her room.

"Oh, by the way Carver, don't eat so much before bed, you're going to have nightmares" Hawke told her younger sibling, having stopped when she reached the top step. Carver groaned in response, before he grinned widely.

"The taint already takes care of that. Might as well do it with a full belly."

Hawke almost smiled at her brother then, "Suit yourself," she said before disappearing.


	6. A Wilted Flower and a Wilting Heart

**I AM SO SORRY, KAYKAYROADS. I made you wait an entire week. I am a terrible, terrible person. *sniff***

**I'm sorry to all my readers. You are all free to smite me; you'd be entitled to. It's been almost 3 months. I'm terrible... **

**I also vehemently apologize for the length of this chapter. It would have been longer had I no calculus or literature homework to catch up on. The next chapter will be significantly longer, I promise! And hopefully updated much earlier than this one...**

* * *

Memories flickered pleasantly into Marian's dream. That distinct and paternal subtle nod of approval after summoning a spell correctly, and the proud pat on the head after an exhausting day of spell-casting. Then another similar gesture on the shoulder that was yet all too different, as its intent bordered on sympathy for the delivery was made shortly after the young mage's first heartbreak. Her father's shirt, faintly fragrant of medicinal herbs and faded by the generous wearing capacity it had provided, stained with her flood of tears after the wedding ceremony of the very libertine whose name her present self could not recall. Hands marred by wrinkles which had been carefully nurtured by the strenuous years of gravity and labor, snugly wrapped around Marian's own as the owner of the withered limps reposed in the very bed upon which his glimmering life would be snuffed. All the feeble promises she'd sworn to keep; to protect part of the treasures which death had not waited for the her father to secure, treasures considered meager trifles by those of reputable standing or those used to lives which were too soft, and invaluable to those who knew destitution like one knew an old friend. Part which was not gained but learned; the wisdom that came to the humble, and the other part which made the gargantuan bulk of his happiness: his wife and children.

Then Marian's mind fuddled for a bit, suddenly catapulting vibrant dashes of crimson pertaining to the rose petals that ignorantly called the attention of passers, their saccharine aroma a warm beckoning. There were soprano voices lilting in laughter and girlish giggles customary of children who had discovered dandelions. Bethany's chocolate hair charmingly disheveled as she rose from a bed of flowers on a quiet afternoon.

Her mind kept perusing for old flickers of her past. There was a sort chronological structure, and they all seemed to have the same sweet nostalgia weaved into them.

A time distortion of sorts accommodated Marian's biographical tale, transporting her to one of the many times when her scorching forehead would be gently touched by her mother's cool hand. Such was her mother's habitual drill when engaging in an internal analysis of an ailment. The touch, however, was no less maternal for it's methodology and had infallibly nursed young Marian back to health innumerable times. It was a touch her current self had not felt for years past, and whose absence drove the Champion vulnerable.

Her train of memories began to tarnish as some subconscious part of herself opened the chest containing her heart's anciently buried fears; fears cultivated by stark realizations. There would be no more tranquilizing lullabies after surviving the demons who incessantly tried to sway her into submission in her dreams. No more exquisite pies baked and molded with loving hands, nor any of her mother's admonishment for the her liberal attitude and late escapades that tugged at the memory strings of the renounced-noble.

The bitter reminder was suddenly snuffed out and replaced with more recent memories. Lips brushed against her slender neck, eyes growing with the liveliness of a viridescent tree in springtime; a slight crinkle of amusement embellishing their corners. Hair with the tactility of silk tangling between her fingers as she cooed words of affection into the elven ears she was so fond of, and hands tugging at her own hair in insistence before she gave in to passion.

Marian turned in her sleep and snuggled into her pillow, a contented smile forming on her lips. But the foggy oblivion slowly drifted away as clouds did when carried and morphed by the zephyrs of nature; Marian being but the lugubrious child who longed to indulge their mind in the irregularity of the cloudy shapes. The unwilling and fruitless battle hasted wakefulness, and consciousness seeped back into her mind, leaving her in a fading state of drowsiness. She reached to feel around her bed. Encountering only but the absence of the person who would have been there, her eyes snapped open. Her eyes, however, only served to confirm what her heart had prematurely feared: Fenris was gone. Sitting up, she allowed her smile to be abducted by her grief as the recollection of events of the prior day made themselves conspicuous in the frequent recurrence of Marian's thoughts. Scrunching her eyebrows, she ran a hand through her hair before bringing her knees to her forehead.

_We're going back to Ferelden, _Carver's words echoed in the cavern's of Marian's mind. It wasn't a terrible notion. As a matter of fact, some place in Marian's heart fancied the idea. But she hesitated. There wasn't much to stay for, she knew, as the city was falling unto its own blade, leading itself to its demise. Soon, Meredith would lose the screws keeping her sanity together, and she knew the mages not remain passive. It was almost like seeing skylarking children; one would punch the other only to be punched doubly hard in return, only that lives were at stake with every punch, and Marian was getting pulled unwillingly into a game of tug-of-war where she was the rope.

She felt unbearably worn out. Sparse were the times when she could catch her breath, and when she did, it did little to alleviate any of her burdens. In actuality, it was often worsened, as her mind would swim in the murky waters of her past, threatening to suffocate her with brutish self-flagellation. Everything she lost because of what she deemed was her carelessness became amplified in the silence that reverberated off the walls of her chamber.

Her friends were established in Kirkwall, and it was another reason for her hesitation. If it had not been for her discordant entourage, she would have cut the the strings that tied her to her sanity long ago. Yet, they shared with her the same fondness, or lack thereof, of Kirkwall, and visiting her in her home country would be a plausible idea.

Ferelden had the soothing embrace of zephyrs that prickled her skin with gentle chills. The rivers sang to her as it swished over the rocks that had seen the passing waters for far longer than the meager span of her life. Birds warbled embellished tunes and trees would dance in pulse with the breezes. Marian remembered the mud protruding between her toes as she dallied about the softened dirt, and then going to the river to wash so that her mother would not notice, only to get distracted in the pleasant entwining of the earth once more. She also remembered a time when her father had made their family temporary fugitives in the Brecilian Forest in a time before Lothering. The templars had arrived unannounced one evening and the entire family had fled. Her father had triggered a sleeping powder trap at the door so as to not make the hum of his magic known. Somehow, they had later found themselves in the eerie forest, making camp there for the better part of the week. Marian recalled an afternoon in which her mindless straying led her to a secluded part of the forest; realizing that calling her parents until she was hoarse would not summon them, she had begun to weep. She had slumped against a seemingly immobile tree; the tree in question, however, had stirred, and when Marian kept weeping, the massive plant had extended a branch to brush on her shoulder and whispered: _'Why dost thou weep, child? Hast thou lost thy acorn awhile?' _Marian only remembered her acute keening after that and her feet moving incessantly until she had somehow found herself back at camp, where her father blasted fire at a feral wolf she had aroused with her screeches before it could pound her. The anxious family returned back to their cabin the very next morning only to find that it had been burnt to ashes, and such was the reason for their relocation to quaint and picturesque Lothering. The more she thought about it, the more she longed to be back in the land where she had walked her first steps. Despite the rather unhappy outcomes, she cherished the moments she got to spend with her family in the secure maze that the forest provided.

In Kirkwall she had everything, and she had nothing. In her possession were all the things that she had only dreamt of as a child. A big, comfy bed, a jewelry box filled with all sorts of ostentatious trinkets she hardly ever wore but kept because of the intriguing beauty they endowed. All the ruffled dressed she secretly adored despite her constant eluding of her friends' ridicule. She had servants that kept her place tidy and her stomach full, and a home that was too lonely in its abundance of space. Not to mention she had a title and influence, all she thought she had wanted. In Ferelden, she did not have those pretty baubles she had wanted or a spacious home, but she had had all she needed.

Then there was that last stubborn root that refused to be unearthed from the depths of her heart: Fenris. If she was to be honest with herself, the white-haired elf was the primary reason for not fleeing in the first ship headed to Ferelden. _Foolish! _Her brain would tell her condescendingly, yet her body refused to receive the message and kept moving to Fenris's arrhythmical dance. He had told he wanted a future together, and that he regretted leaving all those years ago, yet now Marian could not help but wonder whether she had hallucinated every moment and every word. It had become a conundrum, their relationship had, and Marian could not even begin to fit the pieces together. The very words he spoke to her the night prior told her that he indeed cared for her, and she knew the sentiment was genuine because in the awkward years after their first shared night Fenris had consistently refused Isabela's advances, not to mention that she had not been the only one catching him staring at her when he thought nobody was looking. It confused her to no end when she attempted to the decipher the reason why he went back on his promises. Regardless, she needed to make a decision.

Feeling the beginning biting pains of a headache start to settle, Marian lifted her head to look about her room. Upon her vanity, she spotted the rose Fenris had gifted her before the entire ordeal had begun, or at least the most severe part of it. She carefully approached the wilted flower. It seemed ridiculous that such an inconsequential thing could cause her eyes to water, and her throat to tighten, but there she was, looming over the scarlet thing. She gently took it in her hands and allowed a tear drop to crash into its rosy depths; the drop slid then down the silky petals until it was swallowed wholly. Marian then accommodated the flower onto one palm and began to pluck the slightly shriveled petals with her other hand. _Go, _she thought, torn inside between the decisions, and then thought_ Stay, _just as torn about what the simple word meant as she plucked yet another victim from its home. She continued her endeavors until all but a single petal had fluttered and swarmed around her feet. Her lip quivered. Whether from excitement or sorrow she did not know.

"Go," she let the word escape her lips as she tore the last crimson foliage from its base.


End file.
